Justified
by Russet022
Summary: Remus attempts to justify his actions after his encounter with Harry in chapter 11 of Deathly Hallows, to find that he cannot. Let it not be said that Remus Lupin was a coward...Songfic


A/N: At first, I must say that I thought Remus was despicable in Chapter 12 of Deathly Hallows, and completely out of character. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was, indeed, in character, though he had still acted despicably. In this fic, I wanted Remus to try to justify why he had acted so despicably, but be unable to do so, because, of course, in the end, he did go back to Tonks and he wasn't so despicable. Apparently, despicable is my word of the moment here.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Rowling does. The quotes are from pages 212, 214, and 700 respectively. Most can be found on the bottom half of page 214. The song that inspired me to finally write this and dictated that it be yet another songfic is "My, My, My" off of Rob Thomas' solo album _…Something to Be_. I do not own it, nor will I ever own a song as great as Rob Thomas'.

Justified

_Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin's cloak disappearing around the door._

_'Remus, Remus, come back,' Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam._

Careful to reign in his anger, if only to avoid detection, or worse, splinching, Remus Lupin Disapparated from the top step of Grimmauld Place. He did not go back to the Tonkses', despite the sting of Harry's words, nor did he go to the Weasleys'. He wanted to be alone, and if there was anyplace less likely to yield solitude, it was the Burrow. Instead, he went to the burned out shell of Dedalus Diggle's home, guessing correctly that no one, not even Death Eaters, would think to watch the place now. The blackened remains also suited his mood.

Remus sat gingerly on an ash-covered beam, testing to see if it would give under his weight. It didn't, so he settled himself more comfortably, the rare feeling of rage giving way to shame. He should have known better; he knew he had set himself up for Harry's harsh words. Perhaps he had needed to hear it, needed someone else to say that it was all right. Not that Harry had said so in as many words…

_The light from the window is fading_

_You turn on the night_

_The sound from the avenue's calling you_

_Open your eyes_

Remus had felt guilty the past year for being unable to do anything for Harry. He had felt that, somehow, it was his turn to be something for the boy. Remus knew he would never be James, and could never replace Sirius, but he wanted to do his part to help, and of all the things he had not been in the last year, he regretted this the most. He had promised Lily and James as surely as Sirius had that he would do what he could to take care of their baby should anything happen to them. Of all his failures, this one rankled most deeply.

But Harry wasn't a baby anymore; he hadn't been for quite some time. Remus thought that it had probably been a long time since Harry had been a child. He was a young man who had suffered more than most, with more of the same yet to come. Speaking from bitter experience, it was never something Remus would have wished for James and Lily's son. He wished that Harry had never been through what he had, that the boy hadn't suffered as Remus had. And yet, he and Harry had one thing in common: a desperate stubbornness to go it alone so that no one else was dragged down with them.

_And when you find_

_You're spending your time_

_Wanting for words_

_You never speak_

_But tell yourself that the things you need come slow_

_But inside, you just don't know_

_"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil…"_

Remus kicked out at a bit of broken timber in front of him, trying to force out Harry's words, because he could safely say that _that_ wasn't the case. Remus wasn't a daredevil. He'd always been the one to take the safe road, the easy road. He was fond of the path of least resistance. If he had one fault, it was to make himself biddable, to hide behind politeness and to be kind and witty and as likeable as possible. He knew it was weak and stupid, but he needed to be liked, accepted, in a world that could never give him that.

_"You fancy stepping into Sirius' shoes…"_

Not in the way Harry meant it. Sirius was irreplaceable; Remus merely wanted to be there, to offer what assistance he could to make up for the fact that everyone Harry had considered a parent was gone. If Remus was honest, however, he _had_ gotten his priorities wrong, but he was not ready to admit, even to himself, that Harry was right. How could Harry understand?

Remus had not been lying when he said that most of the world could barely speak to him once they knew what he was. That was why he had learned to hide everything, why he had grown accustomed to being alone. Remus couldn't think why he had allowed Harry to provoke him. It had been a long time since he had lost control.

_Hold on to anything_

_Everything's over and done_

_Has the fear taken over you, tell me_

_Is that what you want to make up your life_

_"Just—just to be clear…You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us..."_

_"My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"_

Remus kicked at the burnt timber again as Harry's words regarding Tonks came back to him. _That_ was why he had gotten so angry. He had offered to help Harry because he was torn, and Remus had never dealt well with his own emotions. His guilt in both cases weighed on him, and, since he could not suppress it as was his wont, he had to try to alleviate it.

Fear also sat heavily on his shoulders and settled immovably in his stomach. He was certain that Harry was not off on an "adventure," that it would be more of a horrific nightmare from which there was no waking. He was afraid that Harry would need the aid that he had put himself beyond the reach of. But there was nothing more he could do for now.

As for Tonks, Dora—he could curse himself right now for the way he had and was treating her. She put so much faith in him and continued to do so. It hurt, because he did not know how to deal with it, it was so foreign a gesture to him. He thought that she would have learned that he wasn't worth her love or trust, but somehow she never gave up on him, no matter how far away he pushed her. He had sunk so low, so low he'd lost himself, and had she given him a way to find himself again.

Last June, with his world in pieces, Nymphadora Tonks had loved him for who he was, and he had thrown his misgivings to the winds and married her. Remus did love her, very much, but he had been alone for too long. He could not get used to the idea that she was always there for him. He couldn't have said why she was, not after he began to see the way the Ministry treated her, the way her own parents looked at her, and he grew guilty. When she said she was pregnant, the guilt grew. If the world could not accept his wife, what would it do to his child…?

_His child_…That was a phrase he had never thought would ever apply to him. As guilty, as worried as he was, he could not help but smile a little. He had always wanted a family, but had long ago resigned himself to the fact that he never would. He frowned in sudden consternation. Why was he throwing that away? Had he been alone so long that he would give up what he had always wanted? Had he not promised Tonks that after the mess he had made of things last year that he wouldn't leave her?

_Time after time_

_You're falling behind_

_Hold on to me, never leave_

_Forever be what you mean to me right now_

_Don't you feel better now_

_"I'd never have believed this…the man who taught me to fight dementors—a coward."_

Remus shivered as much from the accusation in the remembered words as from the unseasonably chill wind that had begun to whistle through the remains of the house. It was true, in a way. Remus had never thought of himself as brave; he knew he did not possess the caliber of courage that James and Sirius and Harry possessed. Remus had always battled alone with a quiet sort of courage that was useful to him. He was a follower, not a leader unless called upon to lead. His strength tended to be his mind, not his physical or emotional faculties. His body too often betrayed him, and his emotions were too often scorned. They were liabilities. He could take no strength from them.

But did that make him a coward? Remus _knew_ his weaknesses, and let them lie, developing his strengths. It was the smart thing to do, the only way he knew how to survive. He allowed his head to rule his heart in all judgments, and chose to do what he thought prudent, not what he necessarily thought was the best course of action. If that made him a coward in others' eyes, so be it. He could accept that, and the hurt that accompanied it. He wished, though, that he could somehow have defended himself with words, and not with the actions he was so ashamed of.

_So when you find_

_You're spending your time_

_Wanting for words_

_And never speak_

_You tell yourself that the things you need come slow_

_But inside, you just don't know_

The wind blew more insistently, and there was a smell of rain in the air. Remus stood up, brushing ash from his robes, and began to walk, in search of safer shelter from the impending storm. He wasn't ready to go home yet, but he knew he would. Since he couldn't say all that he wanted to, he would allow his actions to speak for him. He was a Gryffindor, a Marauder, and he was no coward. For once, he would allow his emotions to get the better of him, and he would allow himself, amid all the misery in the world, to finally find a small haven of happiness.

_"'I didn't want you to die,' Harry said. These words came without his volition. 'Any of you. I'm sorry—'_

_"He addressed Lupin more than any of them, beseeching him._

_"'—right after you had your son…Remus, I'm sorry—'_

"'_I'm sorry too,' said Lupin. 'Sorry I will never know him…but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life…"_

As Harry dropped the Resurrection Stone, the Marauders faded back into death and the world beyond. They had all fought, and they had all paid the price of fighting for what happiness they strove to protect. It cannot be said that they didn't regret, but they all gave their own sacrifice willingly. They all went down in a blaze of glory on the battlefield for all they believed in.

As for Remus Lupin, he felt for the son he left behind as much as Lily and James felt for their son, and Sirius for his godson. He had finally learned to accept love, and to give love guiltlessly in return. He could have claimed a right to stay home; instead, he claimed a right to fight. He took his chances, not only in revenge for all he'd lost, but to create the world he longed for, a world he had only just learned to believe in. Let it not be said that Remus Lupin was a coward. He was merely a man, and, in the end, one of the best.

_My, my, my_

_How your bright lights shine_

_Let your words live on_

_Far beyond this life_

_Does your wild, wild mind_

_Weigh you down sometimes_

_Well, my, my, my_

_Ain't it the cost_

_Of living this life_


End file.
